Circ Neurotica
by A.C. Lucius
Summary: Butters has a vivid nightmare about a funeral. Now he must endure an internal struggle for his sanity. His mind has become a circus in which he is the ring master...
1. Chapter 1

**Hello again! After much picking of the brain, I finally manage to come up with some fresh material. I hope you enjoy it, if enough people do, this can become an ongoing story so R&R please!**

**-Yours Affectionately,**

**A.C. Lucius**

Standing rigid and stoney face... Shaking from head to foot... A single tear rolls down my cheek. I choke back the urge to sob uncontrollably with an effort that makes my head hurt. My stomach feels queezy. Another tear rolls down my cheek. I blink and yet more droplets of salt water tumble down my face swift and irretrievable. I take about a step and a half every few moments as the people in line in front of me take their turns paying their respects.

I hate funerals; this one especially sucks.

When it's finally my turn in line, I tentatively take the last couple steps to the plain pine box. The impoverished boy inside the coffin looks serene. I haven't been to enough funerals to know for certain, but I suspect that's how the dead pretty much look in general. His fair skin even paler now in death, was something akin to marble or porcelain. His tousled blonde hair framed his face in waves and curls, it shone in the sunlight. His angelic appearance therein belied his impish nature in life.

I was going to miss his beautiful wry grin, I missed it now. A smile that was always so knowing, furtive, mysterious. He was always so fey, a youth so mischievous yet so innocent. His eyes always telling a different story each and everyday. Eyes so curious, attentive in learning, and also portraying the desperate fight for survival.

I reached out and took his cold hand in mine. His fingers were hard and stiff, and I found myself longing for their warmth. A sob finally escaped my throat and I choked it down in exchange for the wry feeling of nausea that was also fighting its way upward. I gave his hand a final squeeze and quickly turned away.

Nausea and the urge to cry. The two have been fighting an ongoing battle for dominance within my throat for the past hour. As I ran from what was soon to be the final resting place of my beloved friend, they caused a turmoil that threw me into vertigo. My vision spinning, tilting, blurring! The last thing I remember was the lush green ground rushing towards me and darkness greeting me thereafter.

I quickly sat up in bed at the sound of my alarm. My consciousness sank in and I looked about my quiet mundane room. _A bad dream... what a relief..._ I wiped my sweaty brow and tremulously climbed out of bed. A quick glance at the clock told me it was seven in the morning on a Saturday. I didn't need to be up at this time, especially since I didn't have to go to school, but sleep was the last thing on my mind right now. I showered and changed quickly and made my way downstairs.

The parentals were thankfully still in bed. I honestly didn't feel up to dealing with them right now. I quickly began to get my chores squared away so they wouldn't bother me about them later. After clearing out the dish washer, wiping down the kitchen counters, and re-alphabetizing the pantry for the umpteenth time, I poured myself a bowl of cereal and settled in front of the television to watch cartoons.

It was ten o' clock when my folks finally came downstairs. My mom greeted me with a cheerful good morning and a kiss on the forehead before making her way to the kitchen. Shortly after, my dad ruffled my hair in greeting as he sat on the couch next to me and opened the newspaper.

"Hey there, sport." he said.

"Hey, dad."

"You're up early today." He said conversationally.

"I know..." The gurgling sound of coffee brewing could be heard in the other room followed by the sizzle of a frying pan and the clatter of kitchen utensils.

"Butters," said mom poking her head in the living room doorway, "how would you like your eggs this morning?"

"Scrambled."

"What about you, Steven?" she asked my father.

"I think I'll have mine scrambled as well." he replied.

After giving a cheerful "coming right up!", she disappeared back into the kitchen and more sizzling and clattering resounded from within.

I went to the park after breakfast and strolled around Stark's Pond. It was an average day with little to do, but my mind was too occupied to relax and enjoy the beautiful day. I couldn't stop thinking about that vivid nightmare.

Halfway around the pond, I noticed an orange clad figure in the distance. The sound of splashing water echoed in the air the as boy skipped rocks across the body of water. As I kept walking toward him, the sun glared blindingly above him making his hair sparkle and his image appear haloed. I realized too late who it was when his bright blue eyes connected with mine. My heart gave a large jolt and my whole body started. I rooted myself to the ground and just stared at him in bewilderment. Moments passed as he stared back expectantly, my throat working as I struggled to form words.

"K-Kenny?"

"Yeah?" He replied quirking an eyebrow, "What's up?"

I couldn't speak, my face paled and my body quaked. Tears were threatening to unleash themselves from the prison of my tear ducts. That familiar wry feeling in my stomach making itself known.

"What's wrong, Butters?" Asked Kenny, "You look like you've seen a ghost."

Once more, the convolution of my senses overtook me and the ground rushed up to meet me once more. Darkness gathers me in its familiar embrace.


	2. Chapter 2

**Surprise! I decided to continue it! I hope you all enjoy this latest chapter!**

I was roused by the smell of cigarette smoke. Ringlets and spirals drifted across my field of vision as I gazed at the blue sky. The ground beneath me was cold and hard, and I was able to ascertain from the sound of ducks quaking and the smell of pond water, that I was still at Stark's Pond. I turned my head slightly to the right, my eyes locating the source of the smoke. Kenny sat next to me with one leg sprawled out and the other with his knee drawn up beneath his chin. A cigarette was dangling from his lips. I watched his boney delicate fingers remove the fag from his lips and thought of their cold hard stiffness in my dream. _I found myself longing for their warmth... _Suddenly I had the urge to reach out and caress his hands, (which I restrained myself from doing) but continued to lay there quietly on the ground and watched him for just a little while longer. I noticed that he was wearing only a white t-shirt and blue denim jeans and I suddenly became aware of my head being cushioned by his orange jacket.

My eyes watered and I sniffled. The sound drew Kenny's attention to me and I quickly turned my head away in an attempt at concealing my tears from him. Emotions gave way and I began sobbing into his folded up jacket, much like how one would sob into his or her own pillow. Kenny began rubbing my back consolingly; the heat of his hand could be felt through my fleece sweater. I calmed my sobbing a bit and tried to remain still. My body hiccuped and trembled slightly as my wailing died out, the soothing circular motion of his touch quieting me until I was merely sniffling.

His hand was gone all too soon. I sat up moments later and wiped my face on the sleeves of my sweater. My face became a little warm with embarrassment as I realized how much of a head case I must seem like. I wasn't sure of whether or not I wanted to run away from him at that moment. My eyes began to wonder about frantically and my gaze landed on the cigarette in Kenny's hand.

He was watching me as I just sat there staring at the smoldering stick. I reached out to take it, he handed it over without argument. I slowly brought the cigarette up to my lips with a shaky hand and took a slow drag. I just sat there holding my breath for several seconds, Kenny put his arm around me and I exhaled a long stream of smoke.

"Are you okay?" He asked me.

"Yeah, sorry..." I said feeling somewhat abashed, "I'm better now."

"So what happened?"

"Nothing," I replied growing steadily more embarrassed as I realized how trivial the whole situation was, "I had a rough night. It was just your standard mental breakdown."

I took another drag of the commandeered cigarette and blew a double plume of smoke through my nostrils. I smoke on the down low, my folks don't know otherwise they'd kill me. Tweek and I usually bum them off the Goth kids that spend most of their time hanging out in the back of the school. They're a lot nicer than they used to be. They're actually pretty good friends of ours and had adopted us into their little circle of darkness. Things changed a lot since elementary school, my only friends now are Tweek, the Goths, and Kenny. I guess that's more than a misfit like me could ever ask for and all I ever really need. Kenny and I aren't as close as me and Tweek, who just so happens to be my best friend, but something in me stirs when I'm with him and it's enough for me mourn his death preemptively.

"Your parents haven't been giving you a hard time again, have they?" Asked Kenny.

I shook my head staring at the ground and pulling up blades of grass. He tightened his arm around me reassuringly.

"Come on man," he prompted, "talk to me."

"It's stupid." I said hiding my face shyly.

"If it was bad enough to make you have a breakdown, it wasn't stupid. What happened?"

"I had a bad dream." I could feel my face heating up as I said it.

"What about?" Kenny asked.

_About you, you were dead and I was at your funeral!_ But I didn't say that, instead I told him, "Someone died, I don't know who, but it freaked me out."

"What did he look like?" He pressed a little too interestedly. He was looking at me, trying to discern something from my expression. _Does he know? How could he even suspect...?_

"I don't remember." I replied a little too quickly, "Listen Kenny I have to go, my parents needed my help cleaning the garage and they'll ground me again if I'm late."

I left without waiting for a reply. My legs carried me at a quick pace and then broke into run as I left the park far behind me. I turned and headed toward the opposite direction of my house.

Moments later, the little bell above the cafe door chimed as I burst through it startling Tweek in the process. My friend jumped at my sudden appearance, accidentally dropping free samples on the floor as he fumbled with the serving tray.

"JESUS CHRIST!" Tweek shouted as he scrambled to clean up the mess he made, "You scared the crap out of me, man! You know you can't do that!"

"Sorry, Tweek." I said helping him clean up the spilled coffee and Dixie cups, "I've been having a pretty off day..."

"Don't worry about it." Tweek replied as he moved behind the counter to prepare new free samples. For a few moments all you could hear was the whirring of machinery as he concocted the caffeinated beverages. Tweek was actually good at his job as a barista and enjoyed it a lot. I watched him as he poured the drinks into the little cups and began garnishing them with whip cream and cinnamon.

"I'm going on break soon," he continued as he picked up the new tray and began walking around with it, "do you want to join me out back for a smoke?"

I nodded a little too eagerly and he laughed. "'Kay, see you in a bit."

As I left the coffee shop, he turned to a costumer and said, "Hi, welcome to Starbucks. Can I interest you a free sample of our new Pumpkin Spice Latte?"

I rather admire Tweek for his dedication to his job, I wish I had an occupation I enjoyed just as much. Alas, all I have is a crappy part time job handing out newspapers every Sunday. Smiling fondly to myself at my friend's job satisfaction, I went around to the back of the cafe as he instructed and waited. It wasn't a long wait but mind you, I had pressing matters weighing on me which made it feel like an eternity before Tweek finally came around back and handed me a cigarette. I actually didn't hear his approach as his hand with the fag in question appeared out of nowhere, surprising me. He chuckled nervously at my jumpiness as he lit up his own.

"You weren't kidding about having an off day." he commented.

A mildly irritated huff escaped me as I exhaled smoke through my nose, but I grudgingly conceded that his concern was not unfounded. I did come to him for confidence after all.

"I had a nightmare last night," I began, "I feel like I'm going insane."

I told him everything, there was little I could do other than get what was bothering me off my chest. Tweek didn't seem all that surprised, his expression something akin to "Insanity? Been there, done that!" He was practically an expert on insanity. As he stood there trembling and listening intently, he seemed to be taking full measure of my situation. Like Kenny, he was trying to analyze me, but it wasn't out of personal interest; he was more impartial. I find myself astounded at how much Tweek has matured, he's still excitable and neurotic, but now he was way more laid back.

"I feel that your subconscious maybe trying to unveil a desire to spend more time with Kenny."

This was the second time today that he managed to surprise me. Could my subconscious really be telling me that? I stared blankly at Tweek feeling utterly speechless.

He chuckled at my expression and said, "You don't have to tell him about your dream if you don't want to you know, but you should make an effort to get to know him better. Kenny is pretty secretive and so he's very hard to understand, but he always puts others before himself. His heart is in the right place and your dream may be telling you that there are still many unanswered questions."

"Unanswered questions?"

"In your dream, Kenny is dead. We often feel that many questions are left unanswered when a loved one passes away, it could be like I said. You want to get closer to him and you should make an effort to get to know him better."

"I see..." It was the only answer I could manage.


End file.
